We drove to my father’s house. Liam handed him a slice of cake and said, “I forgive you—for what you did to my mom, and what you didn’t do for me.”

Then came the final blow:
“Next time I knock, it’ll be as your biggest competitor. I’m opening my own garage.”

Liam walked away calm, proud—and full of grace.

In that moment, I saw it: we hadn’t just survived. We’d risen. Unbreakable.

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